As I mentioned last month, joining the radio club in Honduras was not
an inexpensive thing to do. Over a hundred dollars is a bundle to pay,
even if it is a requisite to applying for a reciprocal license. To most
U.S. hams the thought of having to join a radio club before applying for
a license is crazy. However, remember that in most third-world countries
there are no means available to adequately enforce rules compliance on
a national level. Requiring radio club membership places responsibility
at a lower level and becomes a kind of self-regulatory system.
Like it or not, I had to join one of the three national radio clubs
if I was to get my license. So, in the first couple of weeks after our
arrival, I did just that. I soon learned that was the easy part. When we
arrived in August of 1982, the country was feeling the effects of the many
Central America political pressures from its southeastern neighbor. As
a result, no new amateur licenses were being granted, Honduran or reciprocal.
But I assumed that because I was previously licensed as HR1DH I would be
able to skirt around this problem.
How wrong I was! The man who used to be in charge of issuing licenses
through Hondutel was no longer the jefe in this area. In talking with him
and his boss, I soon realized the impossibility of the task before me.
It used to be they would issue a temporary permit until all the
paperwork was done. Not any more! It used to be that they had the
final say on licenses. Not any more! Now, after Hondutel gave permission
for a license, the papers were sent to the military for approval. The bottom
line was this: The military wasn't approving any communications licenses.
Period!
"So what do I do?" I asked. "Just like before," they answered. "Hire
a lawyer and have him present your application. When things change, we'll
let you know."
Great! I knew all too well the process and its speed, or lack thereof.
I also knew quite well the cost involved in getting a lawyer. Another bundle
of money! Two hundred dollars to be exact. Ouch! I might never get on the
air. Besides, I had another problem. All our belongings were still in customs.
When the paperwork was done and we could get everything, I wouldn't be
able to get my radio equipment out without a license. What would I do?
This was in mid-August. Sometime in November we got word that we could
go to customs for inspection and, hopefully, get our things. But I still
didn't have my license. So back to Tegucigalpa I went. I begged and pleaded
with Hondutel, but to no avail. Finally they consented to give me a letter
stating I had a U.S. license and that Honduras had a reciprocal agreement
with the U.S. It didn't say I had a reciprocal license, but the custom
officials wouldn't know the difference.
Sure enough! With little hassle we were able to get everything out of
customs. It didn't come free by any means, but at least it came.
Now I had another problem. Do you know what it's like to be off the
air for a few months, finally get your equipment, set it all up on your
desk, look at all those nice, shiny knobs and buttons, listen to your father
and friends call for you on the nets day after day, and not be able to
push the mic button? It's pure, unadulterated agony! Oh, how I wanted to
respond. The only thing I could do was to bug the appropriate officials
so much they would give me a license just to get rid of me. Unfortunately,
despite heroic attempts at this, it didn't work.
Then I remembered something that's true just about anywhere, but especially
in Latin America. It's not what you know, but who you know!
Since the military was granting the final permission for all amateur licenses,
then I needed to talk to the head of the military. That would be the Minister
of Defense. The only problem was I didn't know him. But I did know someone
who did. A good friend of many years, field director for another mission
board and raised in Honduras, knew the Minister of Defense very well. In
fact, the Minister had told my friend that if he ever needed any help just
to call him.
Guess what I did? You bet! I did what any reasonable, red-blooded, American
ham with any sense would do. I got on the phone and called my friend to
see what he could do for me. Presto! On 7 December I received permission
to operate as W9NXD/HR2. On 8 December at 1533 UTC I was able to contact
my father, N8CVH, just a few days before he and my mother left to visit
us.
Perfect timing! Of course that meant another $45 to Hondutel (I told
you it was expensive!), but about then it really seemed worth it. By the
way, remember this was December 1982. My permanent Honduran license was
finally issued on 19 June 1985--ten months after we completed our term and
returned to the states and nearly three years after I had applied. Without
that phone call, I never would have been on the air. I can hardly wait
to tell you about contesting from HR-land. But that will have to wait for
another month.
